Blood Oath

by John Vornholt

  Now he was worried. It was not a good sign that both the K'sha Na'vas and his comrades were gone. True, he had lingered much too long in Da'Kal's bed, and he couldn't blame the humans for not waiting hours for him in a slight chill. Plus, the clientele of the tavern had turned rather unpleasant. The humans had probably returned to the ship, G'Kar told himself. Yes, that was a logical explanation to one mystery, but it didn't explain why Na'Toth was gone. Na'Toth should have realized his precarious position and been there waiting for him.

  G'Kar halted in the middle of his step. What if they hadn't gone back to the ship? Where would the humans go? To the warmer bowels of the canyon, he imagined, someplace he would not dare to go. They could get away with going down there, because they were off-worlders, but in his crewman's garb he would stand out like a Centauri's hair. Plus, he had no money, having given his emergency funds to Al Vernon. He could imagine his friends and acquaintances dining late in the grotto, by the warmth of the hissing geysers. Perhaps they were making a toast to his departed soul.

  He looked up at the stars glimmering over the great slit in the planet, and he wondered what madness had brought him to this point. Alone, penniless, unrecognized in his hometown, and wearing the disguise of a simple crewman—he must have been atoning for some terrible sins. The idea of coming out in the open, revealing all of his secrets, was beginning to appeal to G'Kar. What worse could Narn society do to him than he had done to himself? He was in a netherworld, neither dead nor alive, caught between the clay and the heavens.

  G'Kar tried to mould into the shadows along the cliff face, hoping he could avoid the authorities for an entire night. He trusted Na'Toth to eventually return to the tavern, the place they had agreed to meet. Plus, he saw no reason to stray too far from Da'Kal's house in case he needed a genuine sanctuary. He thought about going back there now, but his pride wouldn't let him. If need be, he had his fake identicard and his excuse to be looking for human passengers.

  G'Kar settled into a crevice in the rock, hoping the Earthers were passing a better evening than he was.

  Outside the grotto, Ivanova, Na'Toth, and Garibaldi stared sullenly at each other. They were tired of discussing what they should do. Na'Toth wanted to return to the tavern to look for G'Kar, and Ivanova wanted to contact Captain Sheridan. Al was still missing in action, so he couldn't be polled. Garibaldi was content to stand near a sputtering little geyser that stunk like a skunk but shot warm steam around his legs. All three of them wanted to contact the K'sha Na'vas, but that didn't seem to be an option. Even if they did contact the K'sha Na'vas, neither human wanted to brave the plunging temperatures at the top of the canyon.

  "We can't abandon G'Kar," whispered Na'Toth, reviving her favorite argument.

  Ivanova sighed. "We've gone out on plenty of limbs for G'Kar. Maybe it's time we started thinking about our mess instead of G'Kar's mess. We've been out of contact with our superiors for days, we're out of contact with the K'sha Na'vas, and we're aiding and abetting a fraudulent death scheme. Homeworld at night is colder than humans can stand, and we seem to have wandered into a ritzy nightclub section."

  Garibaldi cut in. "Plus we lost Al, and he's my responsibility. Which way did you say he went?"

  Ivanova sighed. "I told you, he took a right turn out of the grotto, and I lost him when I hit that cold spot."

  "Right." Garibaldi's gaze drifted toward a Narn couple who were walking among the bubbling pools, and his gaze followed them into the grotto. Now he understood where G'Kar's overly mannered style came from; it was de rigeur among this class of people. Deeper inside the lush grotto, a colorful blimp moved among the aristocratic Narn, looking completely alien, like a parade flag slicing through a sea of bronze statues.

  "Excuse me," Garibaldi told the ladies, as he took off at a jog. "Al! We're over here!"

  "Garibaldi!" shouted the merchant, waving his stubby arms. The Narns regarded the uncouth humans through lizard-lidded eyes, but the two men converged and began to speak in low tones. The denizens went back to polite repartee.

  "Where have you been?" said Garibaldi, suspecting that Al had given himself some extra time to conduct personal business.

  "I've been trying to find us a place to stay." The merchant sounded hurt at Garibaldi's accusatory tone. "And I've been successful, although it won't be cheap."

  "Why am I not surprised?" Garibaldi scowled and turned around to see Na'Toth and Ivanova approaching. Neither one of them looked particularly pleased to see Al, and they regarded him with sullen faces.

  "You're our guide, and we need some guidance," said Ivanova.

  Na'Toth crossed her arms. "I am going to the top to wait for our missing comrade."

  "Hold on just a minute," said Al. "Let me tell you what I've arranged. There are several inns here, but this is the social season, and they're all filled. However, I have prevailed upon an old associate, the manager of the Hekbanar Inn, to give us his second-best suite. I believe there are two chambers, and we can make the same sleeping arrangements we had on the K'sha Na'vas."

  Garibaldi cleared his throat. "How much of a cut are you getting out of this?"

  "My friend," protested Al, "you cut me to the quick! If you can make better arrangements, please do so. We're not going up to the rim tonight, so logic dictates that we have to spend the night down here. The sooner you accept that fact, the sooner we can make ourselves comfortable." He winked at Na'Toth. "Besides, this is the most romantic time of year in Hekba City."

  "I'm not staying," said Na'Toth. "I intend to look for Ha'Mok and contact the K'sha Na'vas, as was our original plan."

  "Oh, yeah!" Al produced a fresh newspad and squinted at it. "I don't read Narn as well as I used to, but I take it there's been an alert at one of the colonies. Every ship in the Golden Order was summoned, including the K'sha Na'vas."

  "That's highly unusual," said Na'Toth, grabbing the pad from his hand. "The Golden Order is the personal fleet of the Inner Circle, what you might call our last line of defense. This is terrible luck for G..." She started to say his name and caught herself on the first syllable. "Just everybody," she finished.

  "Is the K'sha Na'vas really gone?" Ivanova asked.

  Na'Toth flipped to another page on the pad and nodded her head slowly. "She's gone. Although the action would seem more a ceremonial show of force than an all-out battle. I suppose if you wanted to show somebody what a Narn fleet looked like, the Golden Order would be an impressive choice."

  Al clapped his hands. "Let's not be so glum, shall we? I can tell you from experience, there are worse places on Homeworld to spend the night than the bottom of Hekba Canyon. And far worse lodgings than the Hekbanar Inn. And tomorrow, if you still want to go to the border zone, I'll take you there. Early morning, the temperature will be perfect, and that should be a safe time to go there. We don't need a shuttlecraft—there is public transportation."

  "Is that right?" Garibaldi asked Na'Toth.

  Na'Toth nodded her head absently. "We have excellent public transportation on Homeworld. After hearing this news, I am more determined than ever to find Ha'Mok. Hold the room for us—we will meet you at the Hekbanar Inn."

  Al cleared his throat. "Are you sure you want to bring a common crewman down here? You know better than I..."

  Na'Toth scowled. "We'll be careful." With that, the determined Narn strode off toward the grotto. Garibaldi watched her until she ducked under some dripping vines and vanished inside the cavern.

  "Lead on," said Ivanova, with a resigned sigh.

  An ebullient Al Vernon led them down the walkway, past the grotto, and through a stretch of classy boutiques, gaming parlors, and sidewalk cafes, interspersed with hissing geysers and smelly pools. The fancy watering holes were indeed packed, with Narns who were as stiff and well-behaved as mannequins.. Garibaldi had to remind himself that these effete-looking snobs were ruthless conquerors who ruled dozens of solar systems and claimed vast expanses of space. A few generations back, they had been slaves. The Narns took stock of
their visitors as they walked past, but they seemed fairly blasé about the sight of off-world dignitaries.

  Garibaldi was actually getting used to the idea of spending the night in the lap of luxury. After all, luxury wasn't a condition in which he found himself very often. Maybe he shouldn't go kicking and screaming against the idea. Let Captain Sheridan deal with his expense account.

  "You there!" he heard a deep-voiced shout.

  All three humans stopped in their tracks and whirled around. Garibaldi spotted three Narns standing on a second-story balcony that overlooked a small cafe. The Narns in the cafe regarded the Narns on the balcony and nodded approvingly at them. Two of the Narns on the balcony were broad-shouldered males but the third one was an elegant woman wearing a black gown and golden jewelry.

  "Earthers, may we talk with you?" spoke the deep-voiced man, this time sounding more polite.

  Garibaldi shrugged. "Why not." He led his tiny party through the cafe to the patio beneath the balcony.

  The two men stepped back, as if deferring to the woman, and she leaned over the balcony to study them. Now Garibaldi recognized her—it was the noblewoman who had attended G'Kar's memorial service, the same one who had been visiting G'Kar's widow when they showed up there.

  "I am Ra'Pak," she said pleasantly. "And you are the delegation from Babylon 5. We have met twice today, but we didn't have the opportunity to talk."

  She hadn't seemed very interested in talking to them either time, Garibaldi recalled, but they had her attention now. Before he could speak, Al made an exaggerated bow.

  "Your Highness, I am Al Vernon, a former resident of this lovely planet. This is Commander Susan Ivanova and Security Chief Michael Garibaldi. It is an honor to address a member of the Inner Circle."

  Ra'Pak nodded at the compliment. "I had no idea you would be spending the night in Hekba City. I simply want to make sure your needs are being met. Is there anything you require?"

  Ivanova answered quickly. "We need to contact our superior on Babylon 5. The ship that brought us here was called away, and now we're not sure where to go."

  The elegant woman straightened up and spoke to the man standing to her left. He nodded solemnly and went inside. Ra'Pak leaned over to say, "My cousin, who owns this villa, has consented to let you use his netlink. He's coming down to let you in. I hope you have a pleasant stay with us." With that, Ra'Pak glided back into the party room.

  Garibaldi turned his attention to a door beneath the balcony; it looked like stained glass and twinkled eerily. He finally saw what made the strange twinkling lights when a tall Narn opened the door and held out a candelabra filled with white candles.

  He bowed politely. "Won't you come in?"

  Al Vernon started to push past Garibaldi, but the security chief held out his hand. "No offense, Al, but we've got to talk privately to the captain."

  "That's fine with me," said Al, pointing upward. "I'll be upstairs. When you get a chance to hobnob with these people, you do it."

  Al brushed past him, and Garibaldi shrugged at Ivanova and followed him inside the villa. The foyer reminded the chief of a carnival funhouse, because the walls were decorated with some sort of mirrored surface that reflected the candlelight and made it appear as if flickering candelabras stretched into infinity. There were also gently pulsating lights in the ceiling and floor, which were both disorienting and oddly relaxing. He had to look away from the hypnotic flashes and concentrate on his host's face.

  "I am R'Mon of the Third Circle," said the man with a somber bow.

  "Terrible about Ambassador G'Kar, isn't it?" said Al morosely. "He was in his prime."

  "He was gristle," said R'Mon.

  "Yes, he was gristle," agreed Al, as if they had been close personal friends.

  "Excuse me, sir," interrupted Garibaldi, "the lady said you had a netlink?"

  "Yes." R'Mon bowed. "I am conducting a considerable amount of business with Earth companies these days, so I'm on your central net. I am certain all your codes will work. Right this way."

  He led them through a darkened boudoir that had faint echoes of fading comets streaking across the sky. They came upon a mirror that made Garibaldi look as chubby as Al Vernon, and R'Mon pushed the door open to reveal a well-appointed office.

  Al stopped in the doorway. "Excuse me, sir, but I couldn't help smelling the tagro. Do you think I could have a sip of that ambrosia before we leave your splendid villa?"

  The Narn smiled. "Certainly, Mr. Vernon. Please come upstairs with me." He motioned to Ivanova. "Take your time, and when you are done please come upstairs. Join us in a toast to G'Kar."

  "Thank you," said Garibaldi, looking doubtfully into the dimly lit room. "Excuse me, are we going to have privacy in here?"

  "It is my private office," the Narn assured him. "My business depends on privacy."

  The Narn motioned to Al, who was happy to lead the way out of the bedroom and toward the party. Garibaldi followed Ivanova into the office, which was austere in comparison with the rest of the exotic furnishings. The terminal was a universal type that Ivanova had no trouble deciphering. Garibaldi stood watching at the door and finally just shut it, thinking that if there were listening devices in the room there was little he could do about it. They had to trust R'Mon of the Third Circle, and they still had to be careful.

  "The link is going to take a few minutes," said Ivanova, studying the board, "but the request is going through."

  Garibaldi stuffed his hands in his pockets. "How do you want to handle this from here?"

  The commander rubbed her eyes. "Provided we get a good night's sleep, I say we head off for the border zone first thing in the morning, like Al suggested. I'm almost inclined to tell Du'Rog's family the truth, so we can make it very clear why we don't want them to get near B5."

  "That's fine with me," agreed Garibaldi. "But what are we going to do with Ha'Mok?"

  "I don't know." Ivanova yawned, then gave him a smile. "Sorry."

  "I understand. It's warm in here, and it's making me sleepy."

  She was still yawning when Captain Sheridan's square-jawed face appeared on the central viewer. "There you are!" he said with relief. "There's a possibility that G'Kar may not be dead."

  "We know all about it," said Garibaldi, leaning over Ivanova's shoulder. "This is not a secured channel, so let's not go into the gruesome details."

  The captain nodded. "All right, but there's enough funny stuff in this matter that I'm recalling both of you. Get the K'sha Na'vas to bring you back immediately."

  "The K'sha Na'vas got sent on a mission," said Ivanova, "and we still haven't talked to the Kha'Ri. We're sort of marooned for the night, but I think we'll be okay."

  Garibaldi gave the captain a shrug. "Provided you'll approve our traveling expenses."

  "Yes, yes, as long as you're trying to come back as soon as possible. I'll have Earthforce send a ship for you, but that will take a few days. If you can find any way to get home sooner, do it. Don't worry about how much it costs—I'll take it out of your bonuses." The captain forced a smile, telling them that he was worried and wanted to see them come home.

  "We'll see you as soon as possible," Ivanova promised. "Considering this new information, we feel we should pay a visit to the Du'Rog family and warn them about staying away from B5. Believe me, we don't want to spend another night on Homeworld. Garibaldi says its colder than upstate New York."

  "That's cold. Be careful."

  "We're trying."

  chapter 13

  G'Kar shifted from one leg to another, wishing he could at least find a place to sit down. But there were no benches on the narrow walkways of Hekba Canyon, only wind, darkness, and an occasional passerby to hide from. At intervals he tried to contact the K'sha Na'vas, with no success. His lonely vigil was all the more irksome, because he could think of dozens of places where he would be welcome for the night, if only he were G'Kar again. The novelty of being dead had definitely worn off.

  He continued to marvel at the pop
ularity of the seedy tavern a few doors away, especially among young Narns of a certain breeding. He watched them come and go, wondering if he had ever been as shallow and arrogant as that. He supposed so, which was a depressing thought. Having never been on the outside looking in at the upper circles, he had never realized that the malcontents had a point. Who was to say that the vagaries of birth alone should determine a person's future?

  There had to be plebeians who were more deserving of the jobs for which these spoiled youngsters were being groomed. They would never get the chance, however. The best they could hope for would be an assignment aboard a starship like the K'sha Na'vas, where they would see something of life outside Homeworld before they died, unsung, without a fancy memorial service.

  G'Kar heard voices, and he turned to see two large figures approaching him from a lower level. As they mounted the staircase to reach his level, he again pressed himself into a crevice in the cold rock and tried to look invisible. For a plebeian, it seemed to be distressingly easy to look invisible, he mused. But not this time.

  One of the men shined a light directly into his face, blinding him and forcing him to raise his hands. The other one stepped forward and knocked his hands down. G'Kar tensed for a fight, then realized that they were rangers and he was in the wrong place, dressed the wrong way.

  "We had complaints about a person loitering on this level," said the one who had knocked his hands down. "Let us see your face."

  "Yes, sir," answered G'Kar, turning his face from side to side and squinting into the light. "Anything else?"

  "Yes. What are you doing here? This isn't a place for shoreleave."

  "I am crewman Ha'Mok of the K'sha Na'vas," said G'Kar, trying to sound proud of his lowly station. "I am here, awaiting my passengers."

  "Isn't the K'sha Na'vas in the Golden Order?" asked the other officer.